Wild Blonde Hair
by bbluememories
Summary: Perseus Jackson, the royal prince of Olympus, shouldn't be caught dead with a young servant girl that lives out behind his castle, but truth be told, he wouldn't have it any other way.
1. Wild Blonde Hair

"Come _on_!"

Percy rolls his eyes and lifts his arm to allow himself to be dragged along by the girl with the wild blonde hair. She smiles at him and tears off down the stairs with Percy in tow.

The girl has been a source of fascination for a little while now, Percy thinks as his head is bumped on a low ceiling tile and she shoots a quick apology back at him. He laughs at her with her ragged clothes and bright grey eyes. He's recently made it his duty to make sure his step-father – sorry – the _king_, as he's been told to call him, has spared this young girl of the wrath he usually induces on the staff.

Percy found the girl one day while ducking away from his father during a particularly bad _spell_, as his mother calls it. A spell, to the best of Percy's ten year-old mind can gather, is when his father goes out with some friends and drinks so much and stays out so late (not that Percy misses him) that he becomes a positively _horrid_ creature when he gets back.

This specific spell had driven Percy's mother to tears and both of them were threatened with the notion of being kicked out.

Of their own castle.

In which Percy's step-father, not his mother, had married into.

Okay…

Percy had had enough. He walked coolly out of there, ignoring the demanding voice of his step-father, and told the first servant he passed to make sure that his mother was okay. He ducked into a hallway when he ran into a girl around his age.

She yelped and took a step back, immediately apologizing frantically for anything she did to disturbthe_ prince_. Percy shook his head and grabbed the girl by her shoulders, telling her that it was alright and that he should be apologizing to her. She shook her head but didn't say anything else. Percy asked her what her name was, but before she could answer, a women appeared further down the hallway where she exclaimed and ran to the girl. The woman, whose bun hurt Percy's head to look at, pulled the girl behind her, immediately apologizing for, what Percy's guessed was, her daughter's behavior. Percy waved her off and leaned around her body, looking at the girl. He asked her if she ever wanted to go outside and play, but her mother laughed and took her away before she could answer.

Percy and the girl ran into each other several other times in the course of the next couple weeks, but Percy never seemed to extract her name from her. He finally got her to come outside with him where they picked flowers and watched the toads jump across lily pads in the lake near the castle and Percy watched as she would weave intricate flower crowns together. They had left each other with the promise to meet up in their usual spot, in the library down of the forgotten aisles, next week.

Now, the girl pulls him down a sharp corner and down one more flight of stairs and Percy finally realizes where they are headed – down back behind the castle. Percy decides that now would be a good time to remember that he is supposed to be sulking in some room with other boys and girls while their parents' discuss 'very important matters'. But all thoughts stop as the wild haired girl pulls Percy through a stooped doorway and out into the night.

Percy's been outside the castle several times, with other young boys while visiting (in which Percy never saw them again), but never at night, and never back behind it.

His eyes widen as he takes in his surroundings. The small cabins that house the servants of the castle create a semicircle around a large square patch of concrete. A fire blazes in a pit in the center and its light mixes with the warm glow of the open doors and windows of the neighboring houses. A band, composed of banjos, a harmonica, a pair of bongo-looking drums, and a guitar, plays in a circle around the fire. Percy smiles as he feels the sensation of pure joy rolling off of the dancers and singers and members of the band as they weave in and out of the fading light.

Percy looks over at the girl and finds her smiling at the scene. He squeezed her hand and she looks over at him.

"What did I tell you? We have our own way of having a little fun."

"You were right." Percy agrees.

* * *

So, this is a new AU idea that I am completely obsessed with.

Hope you liked it and stay on the look out for a new update (or a new story, you know how I get...)

:) Darcy


	2. Annabeth

The day Percy finds the girl with the wild blonde hair in his room is a surprise for one of many reasons.

One, well, there is a _girl_ in his room.

Two, said girl is crying.

And three, said girl still has not given Percy her name.

Percy looks in wonderment at the girl with her blonde hair fanned out over her head. She is laying on his bed sobbing into one of his pillows, legs sprawled across it and arms clamped over her neck – as if to keep herself from breaking. Her petite twelve year-old body barely spans half of Percy's giant bed. But her muffled yowls are still loud enough to spring Percy into the action of closing the doors, but in his haste he slams it shut. The girl's head snaps up and Percy almost tumbles over his feet in his haste to get to her.

She shoots up on her bottom and wipes her face swiftly. He sits delicately next to her and looks into her red eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she says and she starts to stand up but is stopped when Percy lays his hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, it's fine. Want to talk about it?" The girl immediately shakes her head, but relaxes back into the bed when Percy's glare hardens.

"Fine," she looks up at Percy from her spot engulfed in the pillows, and he stares back in concern. "Well, I'm guessing you know little to nothing about a servant's life, right?"

Percy starts to disagree, but stops when the girl frowns at her. "Well, I guess not."

She sighs and quickly begins to summarize; "Well, it's probably not as easy as it looks because, well, we wake up every day with the sun then immediately start washing yesterday's sheets and clothes and table cloths or go out to town, then some of us go to the kitchens to start that day's meals and some other's go to wake you guys up or to do house work. Then every morning after you eat breakfast, I go and clean up after all of you, then I go back and help out in the kitchens and then I go and sweep up and dust all around the castle. Then I do whatever is asked of me without complaint. But my mom, she – she always just _had_ to work twice as hard as everyone else because she just took charge of _everything_."

"Oh," Percy heads spins after she finished her tirade and needs a second to come up with some intelligent answer.

"Yeah, oh."

"So, why are you crying?" The girl's eyes start to well up again and Percy mentally curses himself. Maybe he should have had given himself another minute or two before he started talking again.

"Well – uh – it's my mother." Percy nods, remembering the day they met and the several other occurrences that Percy remembered seeing the girl's pursed lip, tight haired mother.

"She, well, left." The girl looks down at her lap when she says it, almost looking surprised at what she said.

"Oh, lord. I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, and now it's just my dad and my two brothers. But there is no way that he can take care of both of them and the responsibilities mom has left here and I just – I just – I don't know how to live without a mother. I need her! I need her to brush my hair and sit with me before I fall asleep and to tell me how to deal with boys and make me breakfast and sing songs while we work together and laugh at all my lame jokes and tell me I'm pretty when I feel ugly. I just – I need a mom!" The girl gets more and more hysterical as she works her way through her sentences, up to the point where they are barely distinguishable. When she finishes, she buries her head in the pillows again.

Percy sits there, astonished. Sure, he loved his mom to pieces – she was the only person keeping him sane in this place, but he never really thought about what life would be like without her.

"Hey, it's - uh." Percy starts, but no. It's not okay. None of his royal duties ever prepared him for the day when he would need to comfort a young servant girl in his room in the dead of night.

Instead of continuing to flounder for words, he reaches down and wraps his arms around the girl's small frame until her sobs become sniffles. She eventually calms down and stiffens when she realizes his position.

"I'm really sorry. I just didn't know where to go."

His reply is muffled by the back of her dress, "you're always welcome here – uh…"

"Annabeth. My name is Annabeth."

* * *

Yo guys! After your very enthusiastic response to the first chapter, I quickly wrote this one (so please ignore any mistakes, or tell me and I'll fix it.)

I promise, the whole social class difference will be coming soon, so sit tight!

And as always, that you so much for reading, and tell me what you think! :)

~Darcy


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